


Regarding Abe

by foreverHenry919



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Gen, Head Injury, Injury Recovery, Love, Major Character Injury, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverHenry919/pseuds/foreverHenry919
Summary: Abe is seriously injured. Henry worries. Jo figures out their father/son relationship. Will Abe survive?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

Regarding Abe

12:53 AM...

The hospital waiting room at that hour was cold and cheerless, despite the bright red vinyl-covered sofas and mish-mash of frayed-edged and newer magazines on several of the end tables. NYPD Homocide Det. Jo Martinez watched helplessly as her unofficial crime-solving partner, Dr. Henry Morgan, bounced up to his feet yet again and paced the short hallway for the hundredth or so time. He shoved his hands down into his pockets as he paced, occasionally removing one or both to rifle through his disheveled, wavy locks. His haggard, sleep-deprived look stood in stark contrast to his usually well-groomed, handsome appearance.

_Earlier, 6:15 PM..._

_A wayward driver claimed to have mistakenly stepped on the gas pedal instead of the brakes and driven her car up onto the curb and into a crowded bagel shop. Several people, including Abe, had been injured. Another had died at the scene and a second had died in the ER. Miraculously, Abe had remained conscious for several minutes only to have slipped into a coma during the ambulance ride to the hospital. Henry had gotten the call just about quitting time at the morgue from Abe's friend, Morty, who had himself escaped injury by only inches. The awful news had immediately quashed any dinner plans he'd had with Jo._

_8:30 PM..._

_She was met with resistance when she'd suggested he get something to eat. He finally agreed to coffee. Black. The vending machine at the end of the hall offered her a bottled latte. Bleah!_

_9:22 PM..._

_She'd succumbed to her own hunger, settling for a package of chocolate mini-donuts from the vending machine. She'd washed a couple down with some apple juice (only a bit better than the bottled latte) and tendered the package to him but he'd refused with a quick shake of the head._

_10:38 PM..._

_She'd given up trying to convince him to go home and get some sleep, shower, a change of clothes. After he'd startled her with an angrily growled refusal, he'd just as quickly won her forgiveness with his heartfelt apology. He'd explained his ill temperament was from worry over his elderly roommate's condition and he had no intentions of leaving until he'd seen him._

1:17 AM...

They'd only been dating a little over a month but were growing closer every day. Even so, Jo still wondered just how her new boyfriend and his elderly roommate, Abe, were related. It was obvious that the two of them were close, very close, and had known each other for many years. The mutual love and respect between the two men were unmistakeable and touching to witness, if one had a trained eye like she did, but she couldn't help but feel a bit left out at times. Their banter and inside jokes sometimes escaped her and only made her further realize that there was something they both were hiding from her. She'd finally worked up the nerve to confront Henry over dinner yesterday evening, but those plans got derailed after Abe's injury and hospitalization. That could wait. Henry needed her now.

She couldn't help but think about the look of fear and worry in his eyes. Her partner, Hanson, and his wife, Karen, had worn that same look right after the birth of their second child, born premature with a hole in his little heart. The little guy'd survived but the waiting had done a job on his parents. Her own parents had also worn that look of quiet desperation, as they'd all sat vigil in this very same hospital while her younger sister underwent surgery to repair a broken neck from a fall. It was the waiting and not knowing that wearied them to the bone and aged them before her very eyes. A parent's painful vigil over a sick or injured child.

Suddenly, it hit her like a ton of bricks. But no, no, it just wasn't possible. Abe was over 70 and Henry was only half his age. She looked up as Henry once again returned from his latest pacing round and sagged back down onto the sofa next to her. He had the look of a parent who'd received dreadful news about their child ... _child?_... but determinedly clung to every hope for the best outcome. Hanson's words rung in her ears when remembering that time. _'If you believe in God you'll pray to Him, if you don't, you'll pray to Him, anyway because it's your kid.'_

Jo placed her hand on Henry's and squeezed it. He turned his hand upside down and grasped hers, interlacing their fingers. "He's your son, isn't he?" she whispered.

He snapped his head in her direction, speechless and dumbfounded by her question. His eyes, large with fear, met hers but gradually his countenance calmed. He was ... busted, as his young assistant, Lucas, would say. How she had figured it out, he did not know. But deep down inside, he was glad. No more lies. No more half truths. He'd planned to come clean with her over dinner the previous evening, anyway.

"Yes. Yes, he is," he answered, relief and pride evident in his voice. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He looked sheepishly at her and confessed, "Believe it or not, I was going to tell you all about it during dinner last night." He chuckled a bit.

She squeezed his hand again and let out her own little chuckle. "Believe it or not, I was going to confront you about Abe over dinner last night." He lifted their hands and kissed the back of hers. They smiled for a few moments at each other until they once again realized the reason for their vigil. Then the serious expressions returned to both their faces.

"I wasn't ready for this, Jo. After all these years, you'd think that I would have been, but ..." A sob crushed the rest of his words. He'd been trying to hold it in. No one else understood the pain and anxiety he was going through, simply because they didn't know Abe's true connection to him. But now that Jo had figured it out on her own, he felt it was okay to let some of his emotions drain from him before he burst at the seams.

She scooted closer to him and caressed the back of his head. "We're never ready for something like this, Henry. We want our loved ones to live long, happy lives free of suffering and pain, but it just doesn't work out that way."

He nodded, his eyes darting everywhere but at her. He sniffed and covered his mouth with his hand and then plunged his head into both hands. "I'd gladly trade places with him, Jo." he told her with a shaky, muffled voice.

"I know, Henry, I know."

"He has to get better. He just has to. I'm not ready to let him go." He sat back and then turned to look at her, his eyes red and puffy, cheeks still glistening with tears. "Is that being selfish?"

She shook her head slowly and smiled slightly. "No, Henry, that's being a parent. People say that parents should not bur--- " she suddenly stopped herself, horrified at what she almost said.

He nodded and turned away from her. "Parents should not bury their children."

"Henry, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

He grabbed her hand in both of his and squeezed it. "No, don't feel bad, please. I have yet to thank you for having stayed with me all this time. And how thoughtless of me --- you must be exhausted." He looked at the empty donut wrapper on the coffee table. "And starved."

She sighed and smiled at him.

"You. Go home. Get some rest." He shook his head when she began to protest. "No, Jo. I'll be fine." He raised both eyebrows and pointed at her. "Home, young lady. Rest." His smile was more genuine now, more relaxed. They both jumped to their feet as an alarm sounded (Code Blue! Code Blue!). A handful of medical personnel raced down the hall past them and disappeared into the stairwell. The alarm continued (Dr. Werner to the ER! Code Blue!) as their thudding footseps faded away.

It wasn't for Abe. He practically collapsed back down onto the sofa, exhausted from lack of sleep and weak from hunger. But relieved because the alarm, the emergency, wasn't for his boy.

"I'm staying, Henry." She knew he was concerned about her, but she repeated, "I'm staying." She checked her phone for messages and for the time. Almost 2:15 AM; they'd been there since a little past 8:00 PM, the previous night. "Now, I'm gonna go visit the gourmet vending machine again for us and we can curl up right here and wait together." She dipped her head decisively. He smiled up at her and leaned back against the sofa. Just as she rose to leave, a 40-ish East Indian doctor in scrubs stepped in from the hallway and approached them, his surgical mask hanging from his face. Henry jumped up to anxiously face the medical man who'd just operated on his son.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Malhotra." They all shook hands. "And you are ... ?"

"I'm Dr. Henry Morgan, this is my friend, Det. Jo Martinez NYPD," he quickly replied. "Abraham is my, my cousin. We're cousins." He took a deep breath. "How is he, Doctor?"

"Well, surgery went well and he's resting. The next 24-48 hours are critical to a full recovery."

Henry gave a huge sigh of relief and rubbed a hand over his face as Dr. Malhotra ticked off Abe's injuries: two broken ribs, punctured lung, several scrapes and bruises, and a mild concussion causing some brain swelling. He was familiar with those types of injuries but there was added concern because of Abe's age. Still, he was confident that the proper care was being administered to him. Naturally, though, he would double-check everything. Just to make sure. Nothing but the best for his boy.

"When will I, we, be able to see him?" Henry asked anxiously.

"It's really best that he not be disturbed. Rest is what he needs right now." Dr. Malhotra took in both their dishevelled appearances and suggested that they go home, get some rest, and return after lunch. "You can see him then. But only for ten minutes, and only one at a time." He noticed the dismay on both their faces and quietly added, "But then, most people ignore me and stay til visiting hours are over." He smiled at their smiles and nodded his goodbye.

Jo bit her bottom lip and cast a concerned look in his direction. 

"Well. It appears he's in good hands, at least." He stretched and yawned. "In spite of several injuries, brain swelling is quite common after a concussion." He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "But I have to believe he'll be fine. Despite his age, he's strong, he's a fighter."

 


	2. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "But I have to believe he'll be fine. Despite his age, he's strong, he's a fighter."_

vvvv

After a much-needed respite, Henry returned later that day to the hospital after lunch, as Abe's doctor, Dr. Malhotra, had suggested. He assumed 12:30 PM, was a good time. If not, he'd dare anyone to try to kick him out. He walked at a steady pace until just outside Abe's room, then he slowly and nervously entered. Abe's bed, one of two in the room, was near the window. Even though he'd been a doctor for more than two centuries and had seen patients with all types of illnesses and wounds, nothing really prepared him for seeing his beloved son in this condition. Unconscious; hooked up to tubes; the tubes hooked up to machines that coldly displayed life signs in numbers, symbols and beeps.

He startled when one of the machines churned out a few inches of small paper. Chart. Chart. Yes. He grabbed Abe's chart and read through it, checking everything against what Dr. Malhotra had told him, what the machines displayed, and what his own examination of Abe showed. Yes, he sighed, everything looks like he's on a good track for recovery.

He placed the chart back into its holder at the foot of his bed and moved back to the head of the bed. The elderly gent looked pale. And tired. The muscles in his face slack as he slept. He must be sleeping, Henry deduced, because the anesthesia would have worn off by now. Suddenly, the voice of Dr. Malhotra pierced his thoughts even though the man spoke softly.

"He's coming along nicely, but if the brain swelling doesn't improve in the next 24 hours, we may consider using either thiopental or pentobarbital to place him in a medically-induced coma."

"His brain waves seem strong enough. Do you really think that will be necessary?" Henry challenged.

Dr. Malhotra raised his eyebrows. "Well, as I was saying, the purpose of a medically-induced coma is to protect the brain from swelling by ---"

" --- reducing the brain tissue's metabolic rate and the cerebral blood flow. Yes," he finished.

Dr. Malhotra chuckled and dipped his head in Henry's direction. "You are a doctor."

"No longer a practicing one, but, yes, yes, I am. Look, Doctor, I don't mean to step on your toes but, Abraham is very special to me and I'm just concerned, that's all."

"Of course, of course, no need to apologize. Just looking out for your friend, er, cousin."

The two men exchanged polite smiles.

"Well, I'll just look him over after which you can continue with your visit."

The two doctors traded positions and while Dr. Malhotra examined Abe, Henry seated himself in a straight-back chair near the window at the foot of the bed. The doctor made some notes on Abe's chart and replaced it. He smiled again at Henry and quickly left the room.

Henry waited until Malhotra was out of view (therefore, he was, too) before reviewing Abe's chart and the newly-added notes. He knew that Abe didn't like drugs and refrained as much as possible from even using over-the-counter medication for pain. _'Thiopental or pentobarbital.'_ He lowered Abe's chart and sighed. He'd read enough medical journals over the years to know that an alternative drug was the powerful propofol; same drug recently in the news connected to the deaths of a few famous celebrities. Abe would most definitely want to avoid the use of that drug, he knew. He placed the chart back into its holder and walked back to the head of the bed.

"Abe," he whispered as he held his hand and bent over and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you, son," he choked out. "Get better. Please get better soon." He touched his forehead to Abe's, then straightened up and gently stroked his thinning, gray hair.

vvvv

"Detective Martinez." Mike Hanson greeted his partner as he walked into the bullpen.

"Hey, Hanson," she answered without looking up from her paperwork.

"Hey, how's the Doc's roommate doing?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

She sighed and looked up at him this time. "As well as can be expected." She shrugged. "You know. Head injuries are no joke. I just ... feel so sorry for them both. Henry's taking it pretty hard." She smiled wistfully. "And Abe's such a nice guy."

"Yeah, too bad," Mike said. "I met him a couple of times. Seemed like a pretty okay kinda guy. Wish him the best." He turned to his own paperwork and groaned. After a couple of sips of his piping hot coffee, he asked, "So, just those two dead from that car into the bagel shop, eh?"

"Three," she replied. "The third died this morning." She signed the last of her paperwork and closed the file. "A 19-year-old kid working her way through college."

"Glad we're not working that one." Mike shook his head. His desk phone rang and he answered it. "Hanson."

Jo's cellphone buzzed and she looked at the Caller ID: Metro Hosp. Henry, she guessed. "Martinez," she answered. _(Jo. Hello, this is Henry.)_ "Hi. How's Abe?" _(Holding his own.)_ "Well, we're rooting for him." _(Thank you.)_ "How are you holding up?" _(I'm fine. Thank you. And how are you doing? I hope you went home and got some rest after you dropped me off.) _"Yeah, I did." _(Really? You have a very bad habit of placing the needs of others ahead of your own, Detective.)_ "Pot, kettle." She laughed and it was gratifying to hear his tinny laugh at the other end. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mike holding up his phone's receiver and pointing to it. "Uh, look, Henry, I gotta go. Think we got a body." _(Right. Back to work and ... thank you, again, Jo. For being there for me. For us.)_ "We're in this together. Bye."

vvvv

"False alarm, Detectives," Officer Kiril announced as they approached the scene in Washington Square Park. He led them to a blanket-covered form lying under a tree. As Jo and Mike looked closer, they realized it was one of those inflatable, life-sized girl dolls sold in adult stores.

"A prank?" Mike asked.

"An experiment of some kind, according to him." The officer pointed to a pock-mark faced young man of college age, with large, horn-rimmed glasses and short, black hair. Another uniformed police officer appeared to be taking his statement as they walked over to hear his story.

"No. No. It's for my graduate thesis. I needed to see just how many people would notice that Cupcake wasn't a real person. Er, uh, that's the name on her label. Anyway, how many would actually walk over and inspect her, how many would just stop and glance curiously, how many would think she was in need of aid, you know. A delve into human nature with an exposé on Good Samaritanism thrown in."

"I take it nobody took the bait," the officer queried with a slight smirk.

"Not a Good Samaritan in the bunch! But I didn't count on some **bozo** calling 911 and reporting her as a dead body!" The nerdy-looking young man placed one hand on his hip, disgusted over the results of his impromptu study.

The officer taking the statement rolled her eyes at the two detectives. Jo smiled as she turned and walked back to their car.

Mike raised both hands and backed away. "All yours, Officer." He turned and followed Jo.

On the drive back to the precinct, Mike asked Jo if she was coming back in or heading back to the hospital. As much as she wanted to, she decided to return to work. Henry would call her if there was any change in Abe's condition. Besides, she would drop by the hospital after work to pull him away for a real dinner, this time, and some real answers. A smile tugged at her lips at the prospect of seeing him again. She missed him. Even after only a few hours. But work demanded her attention right now.

vvvv

Henry slowly opened his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he had napped. A couple of hours, maybe. He blinked at the cartful of dinner trays stopped temporarily outside Abe's room and realized it must be around 5:30 PM. A quick glance at his pocket watch confirmed it for him. As he stood and stretched, he noticed something remarkable. Abe's eyes were open and staring right at him!

"Abraham!" He shot to the other side of the bed and gently held his hand. "Abraham. Thank God, you're awake! I'll, I'll ring for the nurse." He pressed the buzzer and peeked into the hallway. No nurse. Just as he was about to dart out to the Nurse's Station, a nurse quickly came into the room but only halfway.

"My s---, cousin is awake!" he excitedly told her, grateful that he'd managed to control his near slip of the tongue.

The nurse quickly stepped closer and peered at Abe. She then smiled and said, "I'll contact his doctor." She scurried away and he walked back over to Abe and smiled down at him.

Abe managed a weak smile and tried to speak, but Henry shushed him. "The doctor is on his way."

 


	3. Regarding Abe Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abe is released from the hospital and makes a remarkable discovery. But is this good or bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_"Abraham!" ... Thank God, you're awake! I'll, I'll ring for the nurse." ... "My s---, cousin is awake." ... The nurse ... smiled and said, "I'll contact his doctor." ... Abe managed a weak smile and tried to speak, but Henry shushed him. "The doctor is on his way."_

vvvv

Dr. Malhotra sat behind his desk and flipped through the pages of Abe's medical file and reviewed his most recent test results. Besides the occasional "hmmm" or grunt, he divulged nothing from its contents. He closed the file, laid it on his desk, and looked up at the two anxious men who sat across from him.

"Well, Sir," he addressed Abe, "you've made a remarkable recovery." He appeared lost in thought as he drummed his fingers on his desk. "A remarkably quick recovery," he said under his breath. He then straightened up and took in a deep breath. "Your latest test results are all within the normal range for a man _half_ your age." He removed his reading glasses and scrutinized Abe a little closer.

"Well, that's a good thing, right, Doctor?" Abe asked encouragingly, his smile waivering somewhat as he glanced at Henry, then back at Dr. Malhotra.

"Yes, of course, it is," the doctor reassured him but still appeared lost in thought. "It's just that ... well, to be honest, you _were_ clinically dead for 20 minutes two and a half weeks ago. Not to alarm you, but I've never had a patient rebound so well and so quickly from something like that. As a matter of fact, Mr. Morgan --- I have never witnessed _anything_ like what has ocurred with you." He let out a small laugh. "You literally died and came back to life. I've heard of things like this happening to people before but never witnessed it for myself. I'd say this sort of thing happens only once in a lifetime."

Abe and Henry eyed each other with a glint in their eyes. "Uh, yeah, yeah, not your everyday occurrence, for sure." Henry lowered his head and cleared his throat.

"So, after three weeks, you are officially discharged." The doctor stood and shook hands with both men. He gave his card to Abe and advised him to schedule a follow-up appointment in six weeks. Abe promised to do so and he and Henry left the doctor's office.

"Do you have all of your things, Abraham?" Henry asked, as he pushed Abe down the corridor in the wheelchair.

"Yeah." Abe patted a small travel bag on his lap. "Look, I can walk out of here." He made a motion as if to rise from the wheelchair.

"Hospital policy," Henry reminded him as he placed a hand on his shoulder and eased him back down into the chair, ignoring his protests. From his vantage point of being behind and above Abe, he couldn't help but notice the new, thicker hair growth on his scalp that now covered his former bald spots. He also had fewer age spots on his hands. A remarkable and quick recovery, Dr. Malhotra had said.

The immortal man, a doctor, himself, was acutely aware of some minor, but significant changes in Abe's appearance after reviving from his clinical death. Those had been the longest 20 minutes of Henry's life when he was told that his son had died. They hadn't seen it coming, he'd been told. Abe had been making slow, but steady progress after a routine procedure to treat an infection that had developed from his original surgery four days earlier. He'd suddenly flatlined and after several unsuccessful attempts to revive him, had been pronounced dead at 3:34 PM. The news had almost stopped his own heart. Had brought him to his knees. By his own admission, he was not a religious man, but there were times, mostly desperate times, when he'd prayed. Prayed for a way out, for help, for understanding of his cursed affliction. He grudgingly admitted that his prayers may have been answered a few times. Maybe. He wasn't sure. It was the times when they weren't answered that loomed largest in his mind. He'd prayed for his curse to be removed. No luck. He'd prayed for Abigail to return to him after she'd left him. No luck. He'd prayed for some news on her whereabouts in the years after. And instead, had received a most heartbreaking answer with the discovery of her bones in a shallow grave in a lonely, desolate spot in Tarrytown, NY.

He'd offered no prayer this time, after being told of Abe's passing. This time he'd railed at God for forsaking him for years ... centuries. For taking away his son too soon, in his eyes. There were mortals who lived well past 100 years of age. Why couldn't Abe have been one of them? Why couldn't he have stayed with him just a little longer? His bright-eyed boy full of laughter, pranks and wonder who'd grown into such a fine, witty, wise and intelligent man. And the greatest companion and friend he'd ever had in the past thirty years. Then, just as he'd wiped away his tears of sorrow, he'd cried new tears of joy when told that Abe had miraculously woken up. Not only that, but over the next two weeks he'd improved so quickly that his doctor requested, and Abe had agreed, that he remain for another few days of tests. This miracle had to be explored a little more, Dr. Malhotra had explained. Bones and organs just didn't heal that quickly, especially not in the body of a man in his 70's. But they had, along with his head injury. No sign of a concussion at all. In truth, no signs of any injuries at all after his miraculous return from a 20-minute journey into another plane of existence.

Getting Abe back was the second happiest day of his life. The first was when he'd held him when he was a baby back in 1944. Still, these subtle changes nagged at him. As they approached the waiting taxi outside the hospital, he brushed these thoughts aside and rejoiced once again at having him back and fully recovered.

"You're awful quiet," Abe observed during the taxi ride back to the antiques shop.

"Oh, just, just thinking." Henry smiled and lowered his head. He reached over and patted his son's hand. "It's good to have you back." He smiled at him and removed his hand from top of Abe's. He noticed that it was totally absent of age spots now. His eyes rivited up to Abe's hair and he saw just a hint of black roots peeking out from under his mostly snowy scalp cover. _'How is this possible?'_

Abe picked up on the look of mild alarm on his father's face. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" Then he clutched his own throat with his right hand. His voice sounded a little higher pitched than usual and not as gravelly. "Huh." He twisted in his seat and looked at Henry, his hand still clutching his throat. "Does, uh, my voice sound different to you?" His eyes widened as he turned frontwards again. "Because it sure does to me!"

"Ahh, well, let's discuss this further once we get home." His voice did sound different to him. To his ears, Abe's voice had sounded like that when he was a younger man, probably in his 50's. Something was happening to Abe right in front of their very eyes. Something totally remarkable and inexplainable. As inexplainable as his own condition, but just as certain.

The cab finally pulled up to the shop and Henry paid the fare and they got out. They hurriedly entered the shop and Abe bounded up the stairs to the upper level's living quarters. He stopped at the top of the stairs and turned around. He stepped back towards the top of the stairs and looked at Henry, who returned his look of astonishment. Abe had not bounded up those stairs in 25 years!

This was getting scary now. But neither of them had any idea what _this_ was. One thing was clear, though: Abe was somehow getting his youthful vim and vigor back.

"What the --- you see that?" The broadest of smiles grew on his face and mixed in with his astonishment. "You see how I took those stairs?" He pointed to the stairs as Henry cleared the top step.

"Yes. Yes, I did." Henry gasped when he looked up at Abe's hairline again. The hint of darkness at his roots had greatly extended. Only the tips of his hairs were white. The lines in his face were greatly reduced. Abe looked to be in his late 40's to early 50's now.

"Ohhhh, ohhhh, now ... " Abe touched the top of his head and his face in response to the travel of Henry's eyes over him. "What? What? What do you see? What are you looking at?" He spun around and darted off into his bedroom and into his bathroom. "Ho, hooooo! Henry, come look at me! You gotta see this! Oh, hoooo, oh, boy."

Henry slowly made his way down the hall to Abe's bedroom, fearing what he would see. Abe ducked his head into the hallway, grabbed his father by the arm, and dragged him into his bedroom and stood them both in front of his fulllength mirror. It reminded him of when Abe was small and would drag him to read the comics to him or to take him to the park.

Abe grabbed his pants and pulled them more than a few inches away from his waistline. "Will ya look at this? My hair's darker, my face is not so wrinkled." He massaged his cheeks with his fingers and then ruffled them through his already dishevelled hair. "Look. Look." He bent his head down so Henry could touch the top of his head. "Go ahead, touch it. No more bald spots."

Henry gently touched the top of his head and slowly fingered the texture of Abe's newly darkened, or, re-darkened mop. Not another curse, he silently pleaded. Not another curse. Two curses in the family is two, too much.

Abe raised his head up and went and sat on his bed. He was ecstatic and breathless as he watched Henry walk up closer to him. The look of concern on Henry's face worked to calm him down somewhat. He turned the situation over in his mind and asked, "What's happening to me?"

Henry eased down to sit on the bed next to him, his hands gripping the edge of the bed on either side of him. He recalled he'd asked that same question after his first death. What, indeed, was happening. What?

"I'm not sure, Abraham. But it would appear that the arrow on the path of aging no longer points in a forward direction for you. Not only that, you appear to be on an expressway to regaining your youth."

"That's a mouthful, Dad." Abe dryly observed. "In other words, I'm getting younger by the minute."

"More like by the second."

"Well, what could have caused this? The injuries, the operation, the medication, what?" He turned a worried face to Henry.

"I don't know, Abraham." He watched with concern and awe as Abe walked over and viewed his rapidly changing appearance in the mirror again. "I simply don't know."

 


	4. Regarding Abe Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abe struggles with his new, bizarre situation. Henry watches helplessly. He's also conflicted because he wants to tell Jo about Abe but is reluctant to, fearing the double dose of supernatural-ness will be too much for their budding relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

The smell of bacon, eggs and toast cooking drew Henry into the warm, brightly-lit kitchen. Not just scrambled eggs; Abe was cooking omelets. His stomach grumbled and he picked up his step. If it tasted as good as it smelled, he was really going to enjoy this breakfast. But what was that music? Certainly not jazz. He entered the kitchen and quite a sight came into view: Abe was singing along to what he recalled was a disco song. The vocalist implored people to "Shake, Shake, Shake [their] Booty". He watched in amused embarrassment as Abe undulated his hips in a most suggestive manner and flailed his arms about his head as if he were palsied. But more unnerving was the sight of the changes in him overnight. His now full head of hair was dark, lustrous and wavy. A lean, svelte physique had melted away his beer belly and geriatric stoop. Henry was fascinated as he watched him cook, sing and dance, apparently oblivious to the fact that he now had an audience of one in the kitchen. The sound of the chair being moved as Henry sat down, finally caught Abe's attention and he spun around and grinned broadly at him.

"Morning, Pops!" he cheerfully greeted him and shoved a plate of food at him.

"Morning, Abraham," he responded, hoping to sound just as cheerful. He placed his napkin on his lap, all the time keeping his eyes trained on Abe.

Abe finally sat down at the table and wolfed into his own plate of food. "Boy, am I hungry!" He looked up at Henry and then down to his untouched breakfast. "C'mon, eat up. You must be as hungry as I am after what we went through yesterday." Another mouthful of omelet was shoved into his mouth.

"Apparently, what we're _still_ going through," Henry quietly added. "Abe, how old would you say you look now?"

Abe leaned back in his chair and thought for a second or two. "I don't know. How old would _you_ say I look now?" His smile was strained. It was clear that he was really as troubled about this situation as his father was.

"I have an idea, but let's take a look at some photos first."

They finished their meal and retreated to the basement laboratory and pulled out some photo albums. As they flipped through them, they compared Abe's current appearance to those in a few photos that dated back to the 1980's and even further back to the 1970's. One photo of the two of them at Abe's second divorce party (they chuckled at how ridiculous that was, a party to celebrate a divorce) in 1982, seemed to match best. The picture was taken a few weeks before his 38th birthday. In the photo, they looked to be closer in age so they went as brothers and sometimes as cousins.

"That's it." Abe pointed at the photo and Henry carefully peeled the protective, plastic sheeting away from the photo in order not to tear it. He finally removed it from the photo album and they gazed at it for several moments. The time and circumstance brought back many memories, both painful and cherished, for both men.

Abe eased the photo out of Henry's fingers and leaned back as he gazed fondly at it. Henry shifted his position on the couch so as to really take in Abe's appearance. Even as he studied him, more subtle changes were taking place. His facial construct lifted, laugh lines and the lines that used to ring his neck, greatly minimized. Instant facelift, he mused to himself. The fatty area under his chin flattened out into a much leaner profile.

Abe seemed once again unaware that he was being carefully scrutinized. He dropped his hand into his lap but held onto the photo, and looked out into the room. "I guess ... I look about 38 again? Huh." Henry's heart wrenched when he turned a worried gaze to him and asked, "What am I gonna do now, Dad?" He turned away and placed his free hand over his eyes. "I can't let anyone see me like this!" Abe dropped the photo onto the couch and suddenly jumped up and began to pace. "What are my friends gonna say? My business associates?" He stopped and slapped his hand to his forehead. "Fawn!" He turned and bent down to be face to face with Henry. "I can't let her see me like this! What will she think? She's a wonderful woman, but I'm sure she won't wanna be seen in public with, with ... like she's romantically involved with a younger-looking man! She won't want me anymore!"

They both froze and Abe jerked back up to a standing position. "Oh, I'm sorry, Pops. I, I didn't ... I shouldn't have said that. Sorry." He sat back down and turned his father to face him. "Dad, I'm sorry. This whole thing has just got my mind, my tongue, my brain, all screwed up!"

Abe's words sliced into him and dredged up painful memories of when Abigail had grown older and in the eyes of the world, he was her much younger paramour. He'd been called a Gigolo. She'd been accused of robbing the cradle and then of being his mother until she could take no more and had finally left him. Painful memories. Stinging words. But he swallowed down his own emotions because he was well aware of the kind of panic-stricken thoughts that must be going through his son's mind right now. Which was harder? he debated. To suddenly find, against your will, that you are trapped in a perpetually youthful body, or to be suddenly shunted backwards into one? How was a person to really be expected to live their life after something like that and successfully avoid detection? Even though his own pathway to eternal youth differed from Abe's, no intelligent reply formed in his head.

The shop's landline phone rang upstairs but neither man made a move to answer it. After a fourth ring, there was silence. A few moments later, the ringing resumed. Abe softly pointed out to Henry that it might be Jo and that he should answer it. "If you don't, she'll probably drop by the shop and she might see _this_." He wearily waved his hand over his body.

He rose up and quickly darted up the stairs and answered the phone. It was Jo. _Another body, she'll be by to pick him up_. Oh, no, no, no, he'll take a cab. _And how was Abe? Tell him that she's sorry she couldn't pick him up from the hospital like she'd planned_. Henry offered a quick prayer of thanks to that. For if she had witnessed what he had on the ride from the hospital to their home ...

Conversation ended, Henry hung up the phone and quickly returned to the basement laboratory to find Abe putting the photo albums away. "It was Jo."

"See?" Abe's laugh was hollow. "I think I'm psychic now, too."

Henry cleared his throat. "Ahhh ... there's a body, I, uh, have to meet her and Det. Hanson at the crime scene --- "

"Go, go, Dad. Do your thing." Abe waved his hand at him.

"Abe --- " Henry started.

"Go, Dad, I'll be fine here. I'll just close the shop and hang around in my room. Watch BBQ Cookoff and talk shows or something." He smiled weakly and patted Henry on the arm as he drew close to him.

"I was going to say that we have no idea if this backward aging phenomenon has run its course or not. It could be only temporary and maybe ..."

"You have a really bad habit of throwing a mouthful of words at things, don't you? Backward aging phenom---, deaging, is what it's called, Pops." He huffed and walked towards the stairs then turned. "You think that maybe the ball will start rolling back in the right direction for me, then?"

Henry spread his arms and shrugged. "At this point, Abraham, anything's possible. We'll just have to wait and see."

His spirits seemed to lift a little as he pondered Henry's words. "Okay. I'll wait. You go. Dead body." He pointed up the stairs but waited for Henry to get closer to him. "And thanks, Dad."

Henry smiled and squeezed Abe's shoulder. He was trying hard to get away from always hugging his son, even though right now he wanted to hug the heck out of him. "I'll always be there for you, son."

"I know, Pops."

vvvv

"You seem distracted, Henry." Jo eyed her partner/boyfriend with concern as they both squatted near the body of a known prostitute and drug abuser. She was shoeless and barelegged, dressed in a short, sleeveless, sequined, satin blue dress. Her long, black hair was splayed out and around her head and atop the cardboard boxes and trash upon which her body rested. A used, dirty, thin rubber phlebotomy tube was found under her body and a spent hypodermic needle dangled precariously from a vein in her left arm.

"Distracted, Detective?" he replied, as he studied the corpse of the unfortunate, young woman.

"Nah, he's just workin' up the nerve to agree with me, that this is a simple overdose, right, Doc?" Hanson joked.

"Nothing simple about it, Detective," Henry grimly replied as he rose to his feet and snapped his gloves off, eyes still fixed on the corpse. He then snapped his attention to Hanson. "But you are correct. She did die from an overdose."

Hanson's triumphant grin melted away into a frown when Henry quickly added, "Whether she administered it herself or someone else did for her, remains to be seen. I'll need to examine the body further back in the morgue."

Hanson nodded knowingly and rolled his eyes. Jo bit her tongue in order to prevent a smile from forming on her lips.

"We must be thorough and always endeavor to eliminate any doubt, in these cases, Detective. It is now most important that we treat her demise and the contributing circumstances with the respect she obviously was denied in her short life."

"Thanks for the lecture --- Da-ad," Hanson muttered as Henry trudged away. Jo bit her lower lip, tapped Hanson on the arm to placate him, and caught up with Henry.

"Wanna tell me about it?" she asked him flatly once they were inside her car.

"About what?"

"Henry ... ," she sighed wearily, "let's not ride that old horse again, please."

He knew exactly what she meant. But how could he tell her that he was worried about his 70-ish son who'd recently survived a terrible accident and flatlined for nearly 30 minutes, miraculously revived only to age regress to when he was in his 30's?? All of this after having divulged to her about his own immortality?? The poor woman is going to run for the hills from the both of them, thinking they're possessed!!

"You're right; I am still worried about Abraham." That much was true. But it wasn't the entire truth because he was omitting the real reason why. Vaguely aware that he'd been wringing his hands, he clasped them together in his lap to mask his nervousness. All these many years the secret of his condition had been kept by Abe from his friends and even his wife either by lies or evasivness. Now, Henry felt he must do the same for Abe. Hopefully, Jo would understand and forgive him if he could convince Abe to agree to let her in on things. How ironic, he wryly thought, that he was now the one intent on convincing the other to bring Jo into their confidence.

 

 


	5. Regarding Abe Ch 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abe regresses in age even more. How much, Henry worries. And if Jo finds out that Henry has regressed to hiding things from her again, what will happen to their budding romance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters. Mild reference to "Skinny Dipper".

_All these many years the secret of his condition had been kept by Abe from his friends and even from his wife, Maureen, either by lies or evasivness. Now, Henry felt he must do the same for Abe. Hopefully, Jo would understand and forgive him if he could convince Abe to agree to let her in on things. How ironic, he wryly thought, that he was now the one intent on convincing the other to bring Jo into their confidence._

  
vvvv

  
"Lucas, I'll be in my office making a quick phone call. Please finish prepping the corpse of Melody James." He nodded at the body of the known prostitute found that morning near a dumpster behind a nightclub.

  
"Will do, Doc," Lucas replied as Henry hurried past him.

  
He needed to check in with Abe to find out if his strange condition had stabilized or, God forbid, had worsened in the form of more deaging. He closed his door and quickly made his way to his desk and sat down. His hand shook as he punched in the shop's phone number. It went to voicemail. _'Silly, me. Abe's probably not going to answer the business line.'_ He hung up and this time dialed Abe's cellphone number.

  
"Hello! Pops!" Abe answered, the anxiety in his voice evident and, to Henry's ear, a familiar squeak he hadn't heard in decades.

  
"Abraham, are you allright? You sound upset." He spoke rapidly into the phone's mouthpiece but just above a whisper.

  
"Well, yeah, I'm upset, you already know that!" he replied breathlessly.

  
"Abraham. It's just that your voice sounds rather strange and more urgent than it did before. Has something ... changed?" Henry held his breath.

  
Abe huffed in exasperation. "Changed? I looked to be about 38 when you left this morning, right?"

  
"Yes, yes, that's right." He desperately wanted to know what was going on. At the same time, he dreaded knowing.

  
"Well, let's just say that if walked outside on the city streets, a cop might haul me in for truancy."

  
"Abraham," Henry squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brow, "what are you talking about?"

  
"I'm saying that I now look like my senior high school yearbook photo!!!" He yelled so loudly that Henry had to move the receiver away from his ear.

  
"Abraham, Abraham, please try to calm yourself." Then it hit him. "You mean you look like you did when you were in high school?" Henry couldn't believe it. He held the phone receiver in both hands with a white-knuckled grip, his face contorted with fear and uncertainty.

  
"All I need is a prom date," he replied mournfully, and, if Henry wasn't mistaken, it sounded as if he were crying.

  
What was he to do? It was apparent that his son needed him, but he was clueless as to what remedy could be applied. And the young prostitute's autopsy was a priority because she was the daughter of a New York City Councilman. Lt. Reece's superiors had strongly "suggested" that the case required everyone's immediate attention. But there was no contest. Abe needed him right now and the autopsy could wait at least until tomorrow morning. He'd return tonight or in the wee hours of the morning, if possible, and begin the autopsy alone. But right now, he needed to get home. 

 

"I'll be home as soon as I can, Abraham; I'm leaving right now."

  
Abe sniffled and replied in a much calmer voice, "Okay, Pops. And, and, could you ... "

  
"What? Could I what, Abraham?"

  
"Could you please bring me some Cracker Jacks? They're my favorite."

  
Henry closed his eyes and smiled at the memory. "Yes, I do recall that, my boy." He opened his eyes and realized they were misty. And where was he going to get this popcorn treat for his son? He suddenly realized that there were some in the vending machine in the break room.

 

"Cracker Jacks it is, then," he smiled into the phone. They weren't the healthiest of treats, in his opinion, but he was now flooded with fond memories of Abe dumping the concoction onto a paper towel into two separate piles of corn on one side, nuts on the other. He'd sworn that it lasted longer if eaten that way. The point was not debatable with him and, according to Abigail, was not worth arguing over, so Henry had dropped it. Three. Three boxes should be enough. No. Better get all of them.

  
The call ended, Henry stepped back out of his office and walked up to Lucas. "You can place Ms. James' body back into the cooler for now, Lucas," he said, trying hard to harness the anxiety and worry in his voice. "We'll start on the autopsy tomorrow morning." He smiled and nodded as he turned and walked away, ignoring the look of confusion on the young man's face.

  
"Okay, Doc." Lucas rose from his seat but called to Henry's back, "What'll I tell anyone if they ask why we're not starting today?"

  
He could feel Lucas' gaze as it bored into the back of his head but he only increased the speed of his retreat and didn't turn around.

 

"Tell them that I left two of my tools at home, so I'm popping off to retrieve them." He hated lying but he had no choice.

  
The vending machine had only four boxes of Cracker Jacks left and he pumped enough coinage into it to purchase each one. Fortunately, he was able to stuff them into a plastic bag abandoned on the counter near the microwave.

 

As he made his way out of the building and piled into the back of a cab, he grimaced when he saw Jo snap her head in his direction as she exited the building. In the cab's sideview mirror, he saw her with hands on her hips as she frowned after him. Can things get any worse? he asked himself. She'll question Lucas. Then she'll come to shop. He sighed and rubbed his temples. Oh, stop the world; he wanted to get off!

  
vvvv

  
Jo was sure that that was Henry who'd just taken off in that cab. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he hadn't just asked her to drop him off at the shop. Something was up because she was also sure that he'd hunched down in an effort to not be seen by her. But she had. She bit her lower lip and tapped her foot with her hands on her hips. 

_'First, he nearly bites Hanson's head off, then he impersonates Mr. Mumbles on the way back to the precinct. He practically hopped out of my car and made a beeline for the morgue all Gung Ho to do the autopsy, then he sneaks out without telling me where he's going.'_ Well, two could play that game. She spun around, nearly colliding with Lucas as he exited the building.

  
"Whoa, whoa, there!" Lucas exclaimed as he caught her before she fell.

  
She stood upright and bit her lip, frowning. "Sorry, sorry." She questioned Lucas about Henry's sudden exit but it was apparent that he was as much in the dark as she was.

  
Lucas felt obligated to cover for his boss, but he didn't want to lie to a member of the NYPD, either. For Henry's tools had just been delivered from being cleaned and sharpened and he'd placed them on his desk, still in the unopened shrinkwrap. So he'd figured he'd stuff a super burrito into his gut for lunch just in case he and his boss were arrested later on for delaying the autopsy and, therefore, obstructing justice in the now high-profile case. Just his luck that he would run into Jo, one of the NYPD's most competent and thorough detectives. He chose freedom over loyalty.

  
"All I know is that he said he had to retrieve two of his tools from his home."

  
"And?" Jo pressed him. There was something he wasn't telling her, she just knew it.

  
"As far as I know, all of his tools are on his desk. They'd been sent out to be cleaned and sharpened. ALL of them. And they arrived just before he did. I put them on his desk right before he came in."

  
Jo nodded and frowned and her eyes traveled from side to side. "What else, Lucas?"

  
Lucas lowered his eyes and stared at the sidewalk. "He made a call and he mighta been talking to his roommate ... I don't know." He suddenly perked up as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. "Hey, wasn't his roommate injured in that real bad crash a couple of weeks ago? Maybe he got worse?" A family emergency would be a legitimate reason to delay the autopsy and get them both off the hook. Selfish, he realized, but true.

  
_'His son. Of course, that's it. Abe needed him.'_ She smiled at Lucas and attemped to look unworried. "Okay, thanks. I'll just pop over and check on them."

  
Lucas smiled and relaxed as she made her way back to her car and he ambled over to that burrito truck. Burrito Supremo, yeah. He watched Jo drive off and hoped that everything was okay with the big guy and his mysterious roommate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I used the old Henry's got a family emergency and has to pop out of the morgue and run back home trick.


	6. Regarding Abe Ch 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abe regresses even more and he and his worried father have no choice but to enlist Jo's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_As he made his way out of the building and piled into the back of a cab, he grimaced when he saw Jo snap her head in his direction as she exited the building. In the cab's sideview mirror, he saw her, hands on her hips as she frowned after him. Can things get any worse? he asked himself. She'll question Lucas. Then she'll come to the shop. He sighed and rubbed his temples. Oh, stop the world; he wanted to get off!_

vvvv

Abe heard the shop's door open and close, then his father's voice boomed his name and caused his own heart to boom, as well. He jumped up from where he'd been sitting on his bed and he ran to meet him at the top of the stairs. His heart fell when he saw the look of total incredulity on his father's face as he paused halfway up the stairs. Abe took a few steps backward as Henry cleared the landing and walked over to him. Abe fell into his arms and sobbed. He'd been doing his best to hold it in all day as he'd marked his extraordinary but totally unwanted changes during the day. He forgot about how uncool it was for a guy to cry or to need a hug from his parent. It felt warm and soothing to be held by his dad, to be comforted by someone who truly understood what he was going through, even if that someone couldn't make things right for him. He just needed to anchor into someone else's reality in order to not feel he was slipping more and more into his own unreality. After several minutes he was able to pull himself away and dry his tears from his face. He looked up at Henry and smiled weakly.

Henry continued to hold his son's shoulders and stroke his hair. He bent his head down a bit to look into Abe's red, puffy eyes. 

 

"Let's go sit down over here," he said softly and motioned towards the couch in the sitting area. As they walked slowly over, he hugged his son close to his side and they sat down. For several minutes he studied his now teenaged-looking son. His hair once again present as too long and too unruly for his tastes, his body the scrawny beginnings of a full grown man. In another time and place, he admitted to himself, it would not be unpleasant to have Abe like this with him once again. But, the reality was that Abe's normal life as an elderly gentleman would have to be permanently abandoned if his regression could not be checked and reversed. He understood perfectly the heartache at just the thought of it. As a parent, he would do all he could to shield his son from ever actually having to experience what he, himself had gone through many times. It had never been easy and had never been painless. Even though sometimes quick, the painful memories of loss still cemented themselves into one's psyche.

"Have you eaten anything today?" he asked Abe. Cracker Jacks were treats, snacks, not a decent meal.

"Nothing since breakfast," Abe whispered and stared blankly in front of him. He hung his head and sat back against the couch. "Went around the corner to that hotdog truck and just as I was about to order, I saw Fawn coming down the street with one of her grandsons." He looked at Henry with the most painful realization on his face. "I ran back into the shop, closed it up, and hightailed it upstairs to my room. Never been so scared in my life! All I could think was I couldn't let her see me like this. She wouldn't understand." His hands flew up and covered his face.

Henry understood all too well. The panic at encountering someone who would recognize him, but naturally expect him to look much different. To look much older. Or, in his case, to even be dead. He'd ran from them the same as Abe had run from Fawn. Fear of discovery. It pulled out one of the oldest survival instincts: flight. Flee or be ridiculed, at best, harmed, at worst. An anger began to build inside him that emanated from the very depths of his being. But who or what could he direct this anger at? His son was in trouble. Scared. Confused. And it seemed that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Unleashing his anger at the universe had never gained him anything. His scientific, rational mind had to prevail here. There had to be a reason for what his poor boy was experiencing, and he was determined to uncover it. But he needed help. He most definitely needed help. And from someone he trusted most: Jo.

"I'll make you a sandwich and some tea. You can try the Cracker Jacks after that, okay?" When Abe didn't answer, he added, "You must keep up your strength, Abe. Then we'll work on finding a way to right things for you." He patted Abe's shoulder then hesitated before rising. "Abe ... we need help."

Abe frowned at him and then looked away.

He pressed on. "Remember how long it took you to convince me to tell Jo about me and I refused? And she figured things out by herself?"

Abe smiled, nodded, and stared at his hands in his lap.

"I was a fool. For so long, I was a fool to have hidden my secret from her. I wish I had followed your advice back then. But now ... this situation is more urgent. It is happening right now before our very eyes and I haven't a clue as to how to stop it. What I'm trying to say is --- "

"Tell her, Dad." Abe suddenly snapped to attention and looked Henry in the eyes. "Maybe she can help."

A genuine smile spread across Henry's face and eventually across Abe's. The detective's friendship and companionship had done a world of good for both of them and Abe had long felt she belonged in their lives. It had taken Henry a little longer to accept Abe's way of thinking, but now that he did, he wholeheartedly concurred. He laughed softly at Abe's high regards towards Jo and finally rose to go and phone her, when he heard a growingly insistent knocking at the shop's locked door. Jo, he thought to himself.

"That's probably her," Abe called to his father.

"Yes, I'm certain it is, Abraham," Henry called back to him as he hurried to let her in. The closer he got to the door, the clearer the look of irritation and frustration on her face became. He put on his best believable smile and opened the door for her.

 

"Jo, please do come in. I was just about to phone you."

 

She stepped in and walked past him but turned around to face him after he'd locked the shop's door again. "Phone me about what?" she asked sternly, one eyebrow raised and her voice slightly tinged with anger. She practically had him boxed in, his back up against the door. He swore he saw steam coming out of her ears.

"Please, Jo, I can see that you're upset with me, but there's a very good reason for me suddenly leaving work and popping back home. Forgive me, but I couldn't tell you anything about it just then." He tried to take a step forward, but she didn't budge out of his way. But she did soften a little.

"Henry, what is it that you had to 'pop' home for all of a sudden? I now know that Abe is your son and that you have some kind of ability to live longer than most anybody else on the planet, but ... what is it you couldn't tell me?"

He pursed his lips and lowered his head but maintained eye contact with her. "Please, let's just go upstairs. It is about Abe. There's a ... problem with Abe." He breathed easier and followed closely when she turned around and walked determinedly towards the stairs.

"Oh. Is he not feeling well? I can understand your concern, then. Of course, you had to get here as soon as you could." She continued to rattle on as she climbed the stairs and cleared the landing.

 

"He's really grown on me, you know? I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him. For a man his age, he's really young ---- at ---- heart." She slowed and then froze where she stood, mouth agape, eyes widened, as she saw the now pre-adolescent Abraham Morgan! She recognized him from some of the pictures Henry had shown her of Abigail, Abe, and him in earlier years.

Henry stepped from behind her and lunged to his son's side. Abe turned away from Jo and once again buried his face into his father's chest in an effort to find comfort and safety. He rocked his son in his arms and smoothed his hair. He placed a kiss on the top of his head and assured him that Daddy's here. Daddy's here.

Abe turned his tear-stained face up to Henry and wailed, "What's happenin' to me, Pops?"

"I don't know, Abraham," he forlornly replied as he eyed Jo, who appeared to be still in shock.

"I don't like this!" he sobbed into Henry's chest, his body much smaller than just less than an hour ago. "I wanna be fixed back! I wanna be fixed back! I wanna be fixed back!" He continued to wail the pained request as Henry did his best to calm him. But all he could do was to hold him, pet him, and repeat his name.

It lifted his heart immensely when he saw Jo on the other side of Abe. She hugged him from behind and placed her cheek to the top of his head and then looked into Henry's eyes. He could see the tears welling up in hers and she continued to hug Abe. Then she placed her hand on Henry's neck and pulled him closer to her. They both rocked and comforted Abe, their foreheads pressed together.

"I'm here, too, Abe. We're all in this together." She brushed her fingers across his cheek and whispered to him, "Your father and I are going to do all we can to help you."

Abe's voice shuddered as he muffled a reply into Henry's chest. "Promise?" his small, now high-pitched voice squeaked out.

She couldn't help but smile at the cute little child version of Abe and his cute little voice. She hugged him harder. "Promise."

Henry couldn't help but smile and his heart burst with pride and love for them both. Which only made him more determined than ever to find a way to help his son. "Promise." he echoed.


	7. Regarding Abe Ch 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Jo embark on a mission to find out the cause of Abe's deaging and how far back it will take him. Why isn't his memory affected? They accept help from an unexpected source.  
> But how are they going to investigate Abe's situation and solve their high-profile murder case at the same time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_"Your father [Henry] and I [Jo] are going to do all we can to help you."_

_Abe's voice shuddered as he muffled a reply into Henry's chest. "Promise?" ..._

_She couldn't help but smile ... She hugged him harder. "Promise."_

vvvv

Abe's slow but steady breathing and limp body told Henry that he'd fallen asleep. He tugged away from Jo's hand on his neck and looked down at his slumbering son in his arms. He put a finger to his lips and smiled at Jo, who released her own embrace of the now small child Abe. Henry slowly but gently gathered him up in his arms and stood up. He motioned with his head towards the hallway and Jo understood and rose to follow them. Henry paused at Abe's bedroom and thought better of it. For some reason, he preferred to bed him down in his bedroom instead. Jo pulled the covers back on his large bed and he placed him into it. He left the oversized Led Zeppelin T-shirt on him, but removed his four-sizes-too-large jeans, and tucked him in.

Jo watched Henry as he placed a loving hand on his son's cheek and planted a kiss on his forehead. She stepped closer to him and held his hand with her left hand and rubbed his back with her other. They shushed silently at each other and tiptoed out of the room. He paused once more and then opened the door all the way. It was more for him than for Abe. He and Abigail had done it during those times when Abe had been ill. They'd wanted to make sure they heard his every whimper, his every movement, and they'd rushed to his side at the drop of a hat.

They walked slowly into the kitchen and both half-expected to see Abe, regular Abe, puttering around with pots and pans and a new recipe. The absence of that winning grin and affable manner, that familiar face, lent a grayish pallor to the kitchen's usual brightness. Neither was aware that they hadn't spoken for several minutes. When Henry finally did, it startled Jo.

"Tea?"

"Ummm, uh, yes. Thank you." Her emotions prevented her from trusting her words right then. So she decided to go into Detective mode. That had always helped her to maintain a necessary amount of level headedness in order to solve a problem or a mystery. And this situation desperately called for it. She noticed Henry as he retrieved a plastic bag from the couch and placed it in the fridge. "Was that lunch?"

He closed the fridge and sat down at the table opposite her. "No. He, uh ... wanted some Cracker Jacks." His face began to crumble and he looked down at the table. "He'd asked me to bring some home." His voice failed but he held on, eyes shut tight. He opened them and blinked several times and cleared his throat. "His favorite." He managed to smile at Jo and she smiled back at him, then bit her lower lip.

He cleared his throat again and sat straighter in his chair, a look of determination on his face. "I need to examine him. I need to find out what's causing all this."

"Yes, but how? He seems to be getting younger at a very rapid rate. I mean, to my knowledge he was Abe, good ole Abe, yesterday morning, right?"

"Yes, he was." He sighed and stared off into space. "Seems like such a long time ago now."

"And where would you be able to examine him, anyway?" she queried, her brow pinched. "You can't take him back to the hospital."

"You're right; that's out of the question. But ... " He suddenly sparked a grin at her and raised a finger as he jumped out of his chair and twisted back around to face her. "I have a pretty complete laboratory in my basement." The kettle whistled and he walked over to take care of it.

"So you can examine him in your own lab? Are you sure you have all the necessary equipment?"

"Maybe not everything I need but pretty much." He poured them both a cup of tea and placed one before Jo and grabbed his own and sat back down. He stirred milk and sugar into his tea and kept his eyes down, away from hers. "The, uh, morgue has some of the other equipment necessary to my research." His eyes travelled slowly up to meet hers.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Okay. Okay, Henry. It's for Abe and this is a pretty weird situation, so, okay. I'll help. What do you need me to do?" _'I am so fired for this.'_

vvvv

Dr. Amar Malhotra's office ...

The doctor sat at his desk and reviewed the results of the various tests they'd run on Abraham Morgan, recently discharged. The man was in perfect health. Remarkably perfect health for a man his age. He was no longer a patient and no longer required hospital care. So why did this nag at him? He flipped to the last page of test results. Something about the condition of his pituitary gland caught his eye. Every schoolchild was taught that this gland controlled growth and size. A healthy gland meant that growth would normally occur. But the levels of hormonal output were greatly minimized after Abe's 20 minutes of cardiac arrest. People just did not normally come back after so long. Granted, there were a few remarkable and well-documented cases from different countries, including the U.S., but ... he couldn't place his finger on it. Something else had happened to Abe. And he was determined to find out. He strongly felt it was time to address his concerns to the patient and to his cousin, Dr. Morgan. As a medical man, he should be very interested in the suspicious nature of Abe's condition. He picked up the receiver on his desk phone and dialed the shop's number. When the answering machine picked up the call, he began to leave a message but was surprised when Dr. Morgan interrupted and answered the call. He asked to speak to Abe but was told that he was resting. He then asked if he could stop by around 6:00 to discuss Abe's prognosis. When Henry seemed reluctant, he found it disturbing.

"Look, Dr. Morgan, there are some things in Abe's test results that warrant our attention. You, as a man of medicine and his family member, should understand how important all of this is," he insisted. "All this may mean nothing, but please indulge me and hear me out." When met with silence at the other end, he repeated his request. "Please." He relaxed when Henry finally agreed to him visiting the shop that evening. "Thank you, Dr. Morgan. See you then." He hung up and gathered up Abe's papers and placed them back into the medical file. A glance at his watch told him that he had rounds to make and a staff meeting later on. So it would be another three hours before he could make it to the Morgan men's shop.

vvvv

The wall phone in the morgue rang and Lucas answered it. It was Lt. Reece.

"No, Lieutenant, Dr. Morgan is away from his desk. Can I take a message?" Lucas swallowed at his half-truth. "Okay. Will do. I'll let him know that you want to speak with him as soon as he returns." Lucas hung up and sighed. "Where are you, Doc?" he moaned.

vvvv

Henry hung up the phone and after looking in on Abe (and relieved to find him unchanged), returned to the kitchen and sat at the table.

"How's Abe?" Jo asked with trepidation.

"Sleeping soundly. No change," he breathed out with relief.

"Sounded like from your phone conversation that you can expect company soon." Jo ventured.

'Yes. Abraham's physician, Dr. Malhotra, wants to pop over later on and discuss his prognosis."

"I thought you said that Abe wasn't expected to see him again for another six weeks."

Henry nodded as she spoke and then replied, "He said there are some aspects of Abe's last test results that concern him. Things that 'warrant our attention', in his words." He tilted his head to the side and roved his eyes around the room, focusing on nothing as he continued. "This just might be helpful to our cause. He's bringing Abe's medical file to me. There will be no need for me to --- " He abruptly stopped himself and looked at Jo, then continued again. "That is, no need for me to ... borrow it."

Jo rolled her eyes and sipped the last of her tea. "I didn't hear that." She placed her cup back on the saucer and asked, "Did he say there's anything specific that he wants to discuss?"

"He did mention Abe's pituitary gland."

"The gland that promotes hormones for proper growth, right?" she asked.

Henry smiled. "Very good, Detective, you remembered what you learned in school."

Something suddenly occurred to her. "He did have an infection before he ... Do you think it could have affected that gland and that's why it's out of whack?"

"Of course," he replied, "but anything's possible. Still, if the infection caused some sort of mutation as his body's defense system and the medication worked together to fight it off ... the gland could have become off kilter."

"You know who else might know about this deaging process?" Jo asked.

"Who?"

"Lucas." She waved her hand at Henry when he frowned. "I know, I know, but he's got it in those graphic novels of his." She eyed him, mildly amused, as she asked, "Want I should go borrow some of them from him?" When Henry continued to frown, she added, "I know it sounds crazy, but this (she waved her hand around) is crazy, too. Couldn't hurt. And I don't have to tell him why."

"Alright, Jo. You're right. We need all the information we can get our hands on." He bent his head down and walked quickly to the edge of the hallway. Satisfied that he'd probably imagined he'd heard something from where Abe slept, he returned and stood with his back to the island and faced Jo. "Thought I heard ... " He shook his head.

She stood up and placed her hand on his cheek and a quick kiss on his other. He sighed and pulled her in close to him and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her arms slid up and around his neck and she closed her eyes. He whispered his thanks into her ear, his warm breath causing her to shiver.

"You're welcome." She placed another quick kiss on the side of his neck, evoking a soft, shuddering sigh from him.

While her fingers played with the hair at the back of his head, he covered her lips with his in a more demanding kiss than was appropriate for their given situation. As delightful as this moment of intimacy was, there was simply no time to explore it right now. They reluctantly ended the kiss but pressed the sides of their faces together and maintained their close embrace. A small, quiet voice spoke from the doorway.

"Dad?"

Jo looked over his shoulder towards the doorway, quickly pushed away from him, and stepped back as Henry spun around.

"Abraham," he happily replied.

"Can I have something to eat? I'm hungry." The young boy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stepped into the kitchen.

"Hungry? Hungry?" he questioned with a mock-serious look on his face as he looked at a smiling Jo, then back at Abe. "Well, we certainly can't have that!" He swept the boy up in his arms and plopped him down atop the kitchen island and kissed him hard on the forehead. "Now, what would you like? And don't say Cracker Jacks," he sternly warned with a raised finger. He then broke out into a broad grin as Abe's smile revealed his dimpled cheeks.

Jo's cellphone buzzed and she answered it. After a quick word or two, she ended the call with, "Ummm, yeah. Be there soon as I can", and dropped the phone back into her pocket. "I gotta go. Lieu wants an audience. Answers, really." She placed her hand on Henry's shoulder and he placed his overs hers and squeezed it. She then pinched Abe's cheek and he ducked his eyes. "I'll let myself out." She held up her key to the shop that he'd given her a few weeks ago and turned and left.

Henry gave his full attention to his son, now wide awake and making suggestions of chocolate-covered pancakes and strawberry-flavored milk. He laughed, grateful, too, that some of the familiar animation and imagination had returned to his son. But, good father that he was, he managed to get Abe to compromise on some healthier alternatives. As they enjoyed their meal, really enjoyed it, Henry pondered what Dr. Malhotra had to share with him that evening. With Abe's condition apparently stabilized and the possibility of new, helpful information coming, his hope was renewed. And Jo. Beautiful, Jo. What had he ever done to deserve her?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt that Dr. Malhotra needed a first name so chose Amar, which, appropriately means Immortal, Everlasting.


	8. Regarding Abe Ch 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Amar Malhotra visits the shop to discuss Abe's prognosis with Henry. Abe defies his father, but what else is new? Is the infamous Dr. Washington being recruited to take over an autopsy assigned to Henry? Jo gets the lowdown from Lucas on deaging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_Henry pondered what Dr. Malhotra had to share with him that evening. With Abe's condition apparently stabilized and, with the possibility of new, helpful information coming, his hope was renewed. And Jo. Beautiful, Jo. What had he ever done to deserve her?_

vvvv

Lt. Reece accompanied Jo and her partner, Hanson, as they walked out of her office. They had discussed the fact that there were no witnesses and few leads in the suspected drug overdose death of Melody James. One very important fact, though, was that she was left handed, but the injection was made into her left arm instead of into her right arm. This was enough to cast suspicion on the circumstances surrounding her death.

"Who says our vic wasn't evenhanded and she still did herself in?" Hanson offered as an alternative. "Wait. Don't tell me, uhhh ... " He squeezed his eyes shut and recited in his best (but not very good) Henry Morgan impersonation, "something to do with the angle of the entry and the advanced muscular development of her left hand and arm versus the weaker muscle tone of her right hand and arm." He opened his eyes and leveled a look of mild annoyance at Jo. "Therefore, her left hand and arm were dominant," he grumpily finished in his own voice.

Reece laughed a little at Hanson's poor phonetic impersonation of their eccentric medical examiner. "Tell Henry that I said good work," she told them.

"Ummm, it was actually Lucas who figured it out. Henry is ... dealing with a sick family member." Jo fought the natural tendency to lower her eyes, hating herself for the partial lie to her boss.

"Oh, that's right. Sorry to hear about his roommate. He's kind of up there in age, isn't he?"

Jo managed to maintain eye contact with her boss, but only gave a kind of half-shrug. She felt terrible. But now she knew what Henry had gone through and what he still went through when he'd felt it necessary to be evasive when asked even simple questions about him or his "roommate". She didn't regret her involvement with him. But her willingness to help to shield him from scrutiny didn't make it any easier to lie to her colleagues. Eventually, she realized, it would be necessary to lie to those closer to her. But, Heaven help her, she was in love with this man and she loved his son, too, so she was going to protect them both, come hell or high water.

"Well, it looks like Henry's thoroughness is rubbing off on Wahl." She glanced at Hanson and added, "And others. That's good to know, but I'll be glad when he returns and takes back the reins on this case." The two detectives nodded to her and she left the precinct for an early dinner with her social worker daughter, Bernice, and son-in-law, David Hamilton, a corporate attorney. It was a rare occasion that they could all clear their schedules to get together like this. With her husband, Sam, on an out-of-town fishing trip with friends, she looked forward to the chance to just relax for a change, with good company over a good meal.

Jo grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer.

"Henry's gonna have all of us talkin' like him and thinkin' like him after a while." He laughingly shook his head. "You takin' off, too, then?" he asked as he checked his watch.

"Might not be such a bad thing," she said. "And, yeah, I'm off." She logged off her computer, waved to him, and walked towards the elevators. "See ya tomorrow, Mike."

"Hey, say hello to the Doc and Abe for me." He grinned and saluted her with a finger to his brow when she turned to look at him, then playfully rolled her eyes and continued on.

vvvv

7:28 PM ...

Dr. Amar Malhotra had arrived at the antiques shop around 6:30. Henry had welcomed him in, using his most polite gentlemanly manners, but all the while had dreaded his presence. Prior to his arrival, he'd instructed Abraham to remain in his own bedroom and to not disturb them while they discussed the information in his medical file. He had naturally protested, saying that since it involved him and his condition, that he had a right to also be present.

_"I wanna know, Pops. No more crying, I promise." His cheeks had then puffed out into a dimpled grin and he'd turned on that magic begging beam in his eyes. It had served to blind his fatherly, better judgment many a time over the years. Still, he'd stuck to his original decision and had denied his son's request._

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the image of Abe sulking in his bedroom and taking his frustration out on the TV remote as he pounded it to flip through the channels. And he couldn't help but admit that if Abe remained as he now was, it wouldn't be that unpleasant to raise him to adulthood again. What an adventure that would be for the both of them. But Dr. Malhotra was here now, and he shifted his attention back to their conversation.

" ... but since you say that so far, Abraham is not experiencing any headaches or vision problems, it appears we can rule out a tumor," Amar concluded with a frown. "Most perplexing, indeed," he said as he rubbed his index finger across his pursed lips. He leaned forward across the small table in the shop and asked again, "And no ill health effects? Nothing unusual, then? The hormonal output in these reports decreased after his ... revival. But the speed of recovery, the healing, greatly increased. There has to be a reason for that. Scientific or otherwise."

Henry hungrily eyed Abe's medical file that Amar practically hugged to his chest, denying him free access to it. "Ahhh, no, nothing." He cringed at the blatant lie but pointed to the file. "May ... I ... ?"

"Oh, yes, please forgive me, Dr. Morgan." Amar turned the open file around and pushed it over to him.

He thanked him with a quick smile and ravenously pored over the file, specifically all of Abe's test results for comparison. There had to be something, he thought. Maybe not a tumor, thank God, but between his head injury, then the infection around the IV needle and the antibiotics mixed in with the anesthetic ... but they hadn't used propofol. That type of infection was one of the side effects of its use. _'What am I missing here?'_ Maybe there was nothing to find. Maybe the reason behind Abraham's condition was not scientific but ... otherwise. He sighed in frustration as he read and flipped the pages. Then, he noticed something (or someone) behind Amar on the stairs. Abraham! His small face peeked out from behind the railings on the staircase. Mortified, he abandoned the file, slowly stood up and walked toward his disobedient son, staring him down.

"Your son?" Amar smiled as he turned in his chair and then winked at the boy, who shyly waved at him.

"Yes," he replied, still advancing toward Abe, "but he really shouldn't be out of his room, he's been ill." Henry spoke slowly but firmly as he came to stand directly over him on the stairs. Abe preferred not to meet his father's eyes. In this moment, he truly did feel like a bad, little kid. And he didn't feel so good right now as he felt the searing scrutiny of his father's disapproving gaze.

"Not feeling well? Sorry to hear that. Hello, young man," Amar called to him. "What's your name? My name is Amar Malhotra. I'm your older cousin's doctor."

"Abraham," Abe quietly replied.

"And he's going _back_ to his room right _now_." Henry said softly but forcefully.

Abe knew that tone all too well. It had always meant a lecture along with one or more of the unpleasant ground rules enforced. But what his father didn't understand was that this time was different. For although his physical appearance was that of a child, he was still Abe Morgan inside. A septuagenarian man with an extraordinary problem who wanted answers, some help! Surely, Dad could relate to that dilemma of being an old man trapped in a very young-looking body. But, in keeping with the charade for Amar's sake, he rose and mumbled out a "Yes, sir" and retreated to his bedroom. There, he waited for the lecture/tirade to come.

"Nice-looking boy," Amar told Henry. "Strange how he resembles your cousin more than he does you, though." He shrugged. "Strange how genes work, right?"

Henry sat back down at the small table. "Yes," he chuckled. "Strange."

Amar's back-to-business expression returned as he leaned forward. "Please tell Abe that I'd like to take an MRI of his brain as soon as possible. No need to wait six weeks before making an appointment. In fact," he said as he gathered up the file and stood, "I'll send the request down today. It'll be good for one week so he can just walk in during regular hours." He extended his hand to Henry, who shook it and then showed him out.

After he'd locked the shop's door and made sure the sign was flipped to Closed, turned and smiled in the direction of where Abe had sneaked down and sat on the stairs. His son. He shook his head as he made his way into Abe's bedroom.

Abe jumped off of the bed when Henry entered his room. "I know what you're going to say, Pops, but I really needed to know what my own doctor had to say about me and maybe something helpful about my condition."

Henry watched him as he pleaded his case and, for some strange reason, he could see the older version of his son as he moved closer to him. How odd, he thought to himself. Usually, as Abe had grown older, he'd seen him as a small baby or child with eyes full of wonder and a happy laugh. Now it was just the opposite. The odd workings of a parental mind, he concluded.

"Abraham, Abraham, it's allright, I understand. I understand." He put his hands up and then lowered them as Abe calmed down. "You simply wanted answers and that's your right," he shrugged with his hands in his pockets.

"You ... you're not mad?" he asked, surprised.

"Dogs get mad, people get angry," he corrected him with a swing of his head and a sway of his shoulders.

"Da-ad ... " Abe pleaded.

"No." He sighed and hugged his son. "No. I was more concerned with not knowing how to explain you. Your presence."

"Well, it worked out okay, then, because he thinks I'm your son." Abe beamed up at his father. "Imagine that." They both laughed and Abe always delighted in his father's deep, booming laugh. It meant he was totally relaxed, which didn't happen often enough for him. Especially these past few weeks.

"Jo's probably on her way over," Henry said. At least, he hoped she was.

vvvv

"Hey, Lucas," Jo greeted him as he walked out of the morgue. "Leaving early, too?"

Lucas shushed her with a finger to his lips and hunched down a bit as he ushered her back over to the elevator. "Just taking a much-needed break. You-know-who is in there spreading his usual brand of grief around to everyone." He jabbed a finger a few times in the direction of the morgue.

"Oh. Henry's back?" Jo teased.

Lucas looked offended. "Noooo, Dr. Washingtonnnn." They stepped into the elevator and he punched the button for the lobby. "I don't think that guy ever stepped out of bed on the right foot. Both of his feet are wrong. EVERYday!" He followed a laughing Jo out of the elevator and then out of the building. "You laugh, but that old flake just announced that he's been authorized to take over the autopsy in the Melody James case."

Jo's next laugh stuck in her throat and she stopped dead in her tracks.

"You know what Washington's gonna do, he's just gonna write her death off as an accidental overdose and maybe leave some kinda killer out there." He flung a hand in the air, disgusted. "Doc would never stand for this."

No, he wouldn't, Jo silently agreed. "Well, I was just on my way over to see him."

Lucas grinned knowingly and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah."

"About the case, Lucas." Jo frowned at him.

"Yeah." He continued to grin. "Sure." Then something crossed his mind. "Uh, were you coming into the morgue just now?" She couldn't have been coming to see Henry so he was confused.

"Ummm, yeah." She'd nearly forgotten at the mention of Washington's name. "I wanted to pick your brain about ... deaging." She watched in amusement as his eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. "You know, from what's in your graphic novels. My ... nephew is really into that and I'd promised him that I'd consult an expert. You." She swallowed as she lied. Again. To another colleague. She was getting better at it. Why did she feel so much more rotten, then?

Lucas gratefully expounded on his theories and detailed some of the best representations of it from his "readings", as he preferred to call it.

They're comic books, Lucas, she silently countered. She made dutiful notes and prayed that some of the fantastical could be wiped off to actually help in the situation with Abe. She thanked him and as she drove to the shop to share this ... information ... with them, she couldn't help but think about the two men with wonder. An immortal man with a deaged son. What would she find out about herself, that she was really Mary Poppins? Wonder Woman? Nah, she was Ripley from those Alien movies. She laughed soundly at that. Yeah, kick butt Ripley.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I googled the information about the pituitary gland and possible treatments but lost the link. I'm not a doctor or nurse so, bear with me. It's just a made up story, after all. Still, hope you enjoy it.


	9. Regarding Abe Ch 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abe's condition takes another interesting turn. Reece has an unexpected encounter with Dr. Washington and is determined to get to the bottom of his suspicious behavior. Will he perform a slapdash autopsy on Melody James or will Henry be allowed to perform his usual thorough one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_... she [Joanna Reece] left the precinct for an early dinner with her social worker daughter, Bernice, and son-in-law, David Hamilton, a corporate attorney. It was a rare occasion that they could all clear their schedules to get together like this ... she looked forward to the chance to just relax ... over a good meal._

   
vvvv

  
The waiter took their orders and disappeared into the kitchen. Joanna Reece looked around admiringly at the decor, the other patrons, and the colorful but tasteful, table setting. Her gaze settled on the young couple across from her in their booth. Originally, the reservation had been for four at this new place that touted American and Chinese cuisine in the meat-packing district, but her husband, Sam, was away on his annual fishing trip with some of his college buddies. Couldn't pass that up, but he'd jokingly commanded his wife to save him a seat because he just might dust off his cape and fly in.

  
"This is a really nice place, you guys. Thank you for inviting me. Bernice, your dad insisted that we 'eat enough for him', too." They all laughed. "David, congratulations again on your recent promotion. Turning heads there at your job so soon, I see." She smiled at him and sipped from her water glass.

  
"Thanks, Joanna." David beamed back at her. He was a tall, slender, handsome young man in his late 20's, who sported the bald look very well. His bright, hazel eyes stood out in comparison to his smooth, dark skin. One day, he'd vowed several times, he was going to find out exactly where he'd gotten those eyes from.

  
"Well, you did all the hard work, honey." Bernice patted his arm and smiled at him. "I'm proud of you." Bernice resembled her father. A bit on the short side, crinkly reddish-blonde hair, freckles and more acquiline features. She had her mother's dry wit, but shared her father's love of pulling pranks. Her unwavering dedication to task and commitment to helping others, came from both of them.

  
Joanna continued to smile and did her best to actively participate in the pleasant conversation, but her law-enforcement-trained ear picked up on a rather unpleasant conversation between two diners who'd just been seated nearby. She excused herself to the ladies room in a ploy to move closer to these two combatants and learn more about their dispute. Normally, she would have politely ignored them and left them to their troubles. But at least one of the voices was familiar and seemed to be at odds with the other concerning one Melody James. Now, why would they be discussing the morgue's newest resident in their freezer? She opened her purse and pretended to search for something as a distraction when she neared their booth. The familiar voice turned out to belong to Dr. Benjamin Washington of the OCME. The woman he was arguing with looked familiar but she couldn't place her at the moment. She heard only a snatch of their conversation as she passed by their booth.

  
Washington: "I can't. They'll know. I'll lose my job!"

  
The woman: "Then do it for me. Melody James was --- " 

  
She couldn't slow her roll to catch the last of the woman's words without drawing suspicion to herself. She ducked into the ladies room, but in her peripheral vision, she had seen Washington suddenly stiffen and turn white as a sheet when he'd noticed her. His female companion had shaken his shoulder in an effort to bring his attention back to their conversation. Joanna quickly assessed what she had just seen and heard. Her 30 plus years of cop's instincts warned her that her dinner just might be over, but her night was just beginning.

  
vvvv

  
Even though Jo had used the spare key that Henry had given her to lock up the shop when she'd left earlier, she didn't feel it was polite to use it to enter at her own will. "Pick up, pick up, pick up, Henry," she whispered into her cellphone. Finally, he answered. "Hi ... Yes, I've got the key ... Okay. Be up in a sec." The controlled anxiety in his voice troubled her.

  
Henry had been standing in his son's bedroom, watching him sleep, when Jo had called. He hadn't answered right away but when he had, he realized that the phone's ringing on the nightstand had not roused Abe. Normally, it would have. He was painfully aware that he'd sounded a bit more than distracted as he'd spoken to Jo, but she had to see this for herself.

  
He'd stood and watched his sleeping son as he'd aged and shed his childlike appearance for his late teens/early 20's appearance again. The spectacle was both promising and horrifyingly beautiful. He wanted to look away, but the sight held too much fascination for him. A scream wanted to wretch out of him at whatever force was behind all this. His emotions remained miraculously in check as he watched, though. When he sensed Jo at his side, his hand found hers and their fingers entwined. It was becoming automatic for them now, whenever they were near each other, away from prying eyes.

  
"My God, Henry," she whispered in astonishment and her other hand flew up to her open mouth. "How ... long ... ?"

  
"Just over the past 30 minutes," he softly replied to her unfinished question. For some reason, he didn't believe Abe would wake up, but just in case, he kept his voice low. "Dr. Malhotra left a little while ago. He's scheduled an MRI for Abraham."

   
"Well, he can't ... go like this." Jo motioned helplessly towards the sleeping Abe.

  
"I know," he agreed. "But at the rate he's changing, he just may fully revert to his original age in time to take advantage of that." He couldn't be sure, though. The situation was literally unfolding as they spoke.

  
"If he reverts to his original age, won't that solve the problem?" she asked hopefully.

  
He breathed in through his nose and blew it out through his mouth. "I simply have no idea, Jo." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The frustration and fatigue evident in his voice and carriage.

  
She turned to him and tugged at his arm. "He's not going anywhere soon, so let's you and I go take a load off of our feet and compare notes." She tilted her head to the side as she looked sympathetically up at him. "Okay?" His brow unfurrowed and he relented a bit. "C'mon." She tugged again and he smiled a little as he followed her into the sitting area at the end of the hallway.

  
"Now." She sighed as he sat down next to her and leaned back. "Tell me what Dr. Malhotra had to say and I'll share my notes with you from Dr. Lucas Wahl, Graphic Novels Expert Extraordinaire." At that he gave out a definite laugh. "There. I love that sound." She swallowed as he shared what Dr. Malhotra and he had discussed. The revelation about Dr. Washington being authorized to conduct the autopsy on Melody James instead of him could be delayed, in order to allow him a lull in his worries. Much to her dismay, she realized that she was learning to coat the truth, even for him.

  
vvvv

  
"Good evening, Dr. Washington, what a coincidence," Reece greeted him as she walked up to his booth.

  
"Yes. Sergeant ... ?" He dismissively addressed her, frowning.

  
"Lieutenant Reece. Doctor." Her annoyance wiped her polite smile away. "I couldn't help but overhear that you were discussing a suspected murder victim in an open investigation." She flashed her badge and fully identified herself to him and his female companion, who abruptly schooled her agitation and unwillingly gave her full attention to her. "Anything you care to share with the NYPD, Doctor? Something to help in the investigation, perhaps?"

   
Washington, still frowning, looked at his companion, then back at the Lieutenant. "I am not Dr. Morgan. I do not feel the need to join in the mundane operations of your police unit. My report, which will be on your desk tomorrow morning, should be sufficient enough for you to wrap up your investigation, Ma'am," he said in his most condescending tone of voice.

  
" **You** do not call me Ma'am. It's _Lieutenant_ to you," she said as she pointed her finger at him. "And never in a million years would anyone mistake you for a man as brilliant and thorough as Dr. Henry Morgan." He took great exception to that, she could tell, but then turned her attention to his companion. "And, you are?"

  
"I'm ... his sister," she nervously replied.

  
"And I'm sure your mother named you when you were born. What is it?"

  
"Eleanor. Mrs. Eleanor James. Councilman James is my husband."

  
"Which makes Melody James your daughter?"

  
"My stepdaughter. My husband and I were married four years ago after his first wife died."

  
"Still. My condolences." Eleanor nodded politely. "Mrs. James, would you be willing to come down to the station to answer some questions? I couldn't help but overhear --- "

  
"You mean eavesdrop, don't you? Lieu-TEN-ANT?" Washington snarled at her. "Don't answer anymore of her questions, Eleanor." He eyed Reece defiantly. "We know our rights," he smugly stated and crossed his arms. "And you're interrupting our dinner. After you read my report, you'll feel very silly."

  
"Oh, and I'm sure it would just break your heart for me to feel silly." She nodded to both of them as she walked back to rejoin her daughter and son-in-law. "Enjoy your dinner." she said over her shoulder. _'Idiot.'_ Her instincts told her that those two were hiding something. And it was connected to Melody James; possibly to her death. As much as she'd always disliked dealing with the surly ME, she found it hard to believe that he had anything to do with the young woman's death. But stepmothers have had a bad rap for eons. For now, she decided that dinner was back on, but she was going to get answers out of Washington and his sister, one way or the other.


	10. Regarding Abe Ch 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reece and her detectives close in on Dr. Washington. Will this be the end of his career at the OCME, delivering Lucas and a lot of others an early Xmas present? Will Abe's re-aging revert him to his original age? Henry worries because he has to leave his son at a critical time. Duty calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.

_As much as she [Reece] had always disliked dealing with the surly M.E. [Washington], she found it hard to believe that he had anything to do with the young woman's death ... but she was going to get answers ... one way or the other._

vvvv

Lt. Reece was surprised by the resistance she'd encountered from Dr. Washington and his sister, Eleanor James. But Eleanor's councilman husband, Erik, had convinced them both to cooperate and agree to be interviewed, along with their attorneys. Because of Washington's connection to the victim, Melody James, her autopsy was once again Henry's responsibility. It was being performed while Jo and Hanson questioned Washington and his sister in an interview room.

vvvv

Three hours later ...

Henry and Lucas were just finishing up the autopsy on Melody James when Jo and Hanson walked into the morgue. He greatly welcomed this distraction from fretting over his son and his rapidly-changing condition. After he and Jo had discussed Abe's situation, she'd then revealed that the autopsy was threatened by the unthorough hands of Dr. Washington. It had been a difficult decision to make, but he'd known what he had to do. So, after Jo had left for her home sometime after midnight, he'd lain, fully dressed, across the other side of Abe's bed and slept with one eye open and one foot on the floor. Same as he and his wife, Abigail, had done when Abe was a child and had been ill.

In spite of all that, he'd been able to get a few hours of sleep. In the morning, it had been greatly encouraging to find that Abe appeared to be in his 50's. A quick comparison with a photo of him at a friend's New Year's Eve party, however, confirmed that more likely, he'd re-aged into his early 60's. He was getting back to his original age, so that was something to celebrate. However, Henry wanted very much to be there for him if and when he fully reverted; but his responsibilities at the morgue had called him away. He'd disappointed and then been forgiven by his son in the past when unavoidable emergencies had drawn him away. He sincerely hoped Abe would forgive him this time, too.

Henry and Lucas looked up as Jo and Hanson walked into the morgue. They exchanged greetings all around.

"Got a COD for us, Doc?" Hanson asked.

"Well, as I had originally suspected, she did not die from anything injected into her. Cause of death: a series of mini strokes related to cocaine use. She was not an intravenous drug user, but was a diabetic. The strokes caused a blockage in the blood supply to her brain, which resulted in a loss of brain function. In my opinion, someone else actually injected the insulin for her, but it was too late."

"Because she was left handed and it would have been pretty difficult for her to have injected herself in her left arm, right?" Hanson surmised.

"Correct, Detective." Henry smiled. "Also, because cocaine addicts have a tendency to forget or avoid their dose. The cocaine masks hunger, which is normally a trigger, a reminder, for diabetics to tend to their condition. When insulin is avoided for extended periods of time, they develop hypoglycemia. Which explains her abnormally low blood sugar levels."

Jo and Hanson looked at each other and shook their heads. Lucas nodded his head in an approving manner at his boss. He was no longer surprised by Henry's uncanny ability to pull a needle from a haystack, but he still thought it was pretty darn cool.

"According to Dr. Washington's sister, Eleanor James, her husband, Councilman James, sent an aide to check up on his daughter every once in a while. You know, to keep tabs on her. Find out if she needed anything. Money, food. Make sure she wasn't homeless or ... hurt," Jo stated.

"Not exactly tough love, but love at a distance." Hanson sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "As a father, myself, not sure I'd know how to deal with one of my kids being in trouble, real trouble, ya know?"

Henry pursed his lips and exchanged a brief, but knowing look with Jo.

"Apparently, this aide," Jo glanced at her small notepad, "Beau Wilkerson, found her disoriented, dizzy and weak in her apartment and brought her to the Councilman's home, then gave her a dose of insulin, per standing orders from him." Jo closed her notepad and looked at Henry. "Per Wilkerson's signed statement, Eleanor was not too pleased to have Melody there. And, get this: all is not rosy in the James household. Word is, he wants out of the marriage, but, taking a gentlemanly stance, is allowing her to file for divorce ... a divorce _she_ doesn't want."

"Yeah, that's what Washington said, too. His sister's 18 years younger than he and a little on the spoiled side. Doesn't get her way, she plots revenge. When her husband told her that he wanted a divorce, and she didn't ... " Hanson added, his voice trailing off.

"It seems that after Wilkerson left, Melody died. Eleanor then got the bright idea to dump her body in a sleazy part of town herself and make it appear that she'd died from an overdose. All to cause embarrassment for her husband and possibly damage his political career. All because he didn't want her anymore. You know what they say: hell hath no fury like the wrath of a woman scorned," Jo said.

"Hmmm, sounds rather desperate and vindictive," Henry muttered as he snapped his gloves off and tossed them into the waste bin. "And do you believe that she had the physical capability to move a dead body unaided?" he asked.

Jo snorked. "She's as tall and as broad at the shoulders as Washington is. She's some kind of strength training instructor."

"Plus, our vic is considerably smaller and didn't weigh very much. What, 95 pounds, if that much," Hanson added. He raised his eyebrows and looked up. "Yeah, she coulda moved her easily by herself."

"Getting back to Wilkerson, he's very devoted to his boss, Councilman James. He gave Melody the injection. According to him, he'd done it before when she hadn't been able to herself. Then, he'd left, thinking he'd done his job," Jo replied. "Mrs. James, however, had other plans for her stepdaughter."

"Was Dr. Washington involved at all?" Lucas asked hopefully, anxious to know if the surly doctor would face the judge anytime soon. And be out of his hair. Permanently.

"Did they reveal the reason for their disagreement in the restaurant?" Henry asked.

"One at a time, you guys," Jo chuckled with her hand up. "Said he'd only agreed to meet his sister at the restaurant because she sounded so troubled over the phone. He then tried to convince her to turn herself in." She scoffed. "Seems Eleanor wanted him to do the autopsy and put the COD as drug overdose. Ever vindictive, ever scheming, and all to embarrass her husband and cover up what she'd done. He'd refused, though. Told her that he didn't want to lose his job. What a coincidence that Lieu was there at the same time and overheard part of their conversation. It might have taken us a lot longer to solve this case if she hadn't."

"And, small world, Washington having a connection to the case," Hanson observed.

"Hard to think of that guy having parents at all, let alone siblings," Lucas loosely remarked. "I always thought he'd just walked out of the black lagoon one day." He grinned while Jo and Hanson rolled their eyes and hid their laughter.

Henry frowned at the young man. "I'm sure there are underlying circumstances for his general unfriendly behavior. You can never tell what is really going on in someone's life until you've walked a mile in their shoes." His frown deepened as he stared off into space.

"Hey, something's been eatin' you for a while, Doc. You nearly bit my head off the other day." He shook his head at Jo and waved her off when she tried to intercede. "What's goin' on? It's not just this case, either." Hanson pointed out. He had deduction skills, too, he thought to himself. Then, he could have kicked himself when he remembered Henry's elderly roommate. His shoulders dropped and he closed his eyes.

 

"Oh, sorry, Doc. I forgot about your friend, Abe. Look, forget I said anything, okay?" He held his hands up beseechingly to Henry and then dropped them. "Geez, why didn't ya stop me, slap me or somethin'?" he grumbled at Jo. She opened her mouth and shook her head slowly.

"No, no, no, Detective, you're right," Henry replied. "My unseemly behavior the other day was totally uncalled for. I sincerely apologize." He smiled slightly at Hanson who nodded and waved a hand dismissively at him.

"So ... no chance that Washington's gonna get all blubbery behind his baby sister's predicament and retire, at least?" Lucas pleadingly asked. "Please tell me that he's too upset to work here anymore, that he won't be back, please, please."

Jo and Hanson chuckled as they turned and walked out of the morgue. "Sorry, Lucas." Jo answered. "His lawyer was able to get him immunity in exchange for his testimony. He looked pretty ragged, though, when we left him. He might consider retirement after his two-week suspension for violating departmental policy, though. Who knows?"

"No chance of any criminal charges, then? No orange being his new black?" Lucas asked wistfully.

"No. Lucas," Jo repeated. She silently mouthed, "Call me" to Henry, who nodded slightly and smiled as he watched her leave the morgue.

Lucas pretended to be very interested in his clipboard notes, then finally cleared his throat.

"Yes, Lucas," Henry quietly replied, a slight smile still on his lips. "Please finish up here. I'll be in my office."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some information on cocaine use and diabetes used from http://www.diabetes.co.uk/recreational-drugs/cocaine.html


	11. Regarding Abe ch 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end, like this little story. Is Abe now immortal? Will he and Henry have eternity together now? Only time will tell. And it's bye bye to the unpleasant and rude Dr. Washington. Maybe. Only time will tell. Jo and Henry finally have time to explore their relationship, and Abe can safely resume his with Fawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters. If I did it would be on Tuesday nights at 8 on the CW. A nice network.

_Hanson sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "As a father, myself, not sure I'd know how to deal with one of my kids being in trouble, real trouble, ya know?"_

_Henry pursed his lips and exchanged a brief, but knowing look with Jo._

vvvv

Finally, Henry was alone in his office and could call and check up on his son. But just as soon as he'd begun dialing the shop's number, he stopped and quickly placed the receiver back in its cradle. Hanson's words rang in his ears: _As a father, myself, not sure I'd know how to deal with one of my kids being in trouble, real trouble, ya know?_ As a matter of fact, he did know. And he wasn't quite sure he was dealing with his son's situation in the best way possible. As with his first experience of his first death and awakening, Abe's situation of first aging backwards, then forwards was a first in his lifetime. And, as with his own condition, there were so many unknowns. What had caused it? Was it permanent? Would a cure ever be found to end it? And another ominous question lurked at the back of his mind regarding Abe: had he now fallen into a different form of immortality? Whenever he ... died ... would he simply revive, de-age, reset and revert back to his original elder age? Or to another age? Or simply die? Or not de-age or ... He closed his eyes and breathed frustration in and out. Yes, so many unknowns. But Jo was waiting for his call. He shook his head slightly, picked up the receiver again, and dialed her cellphone number.

vvvv

One hour before at the antiques shop ...

Abe slowly became aware that he was awake even though his eyes were still closed. The bed was warm and comfortable, too inviting to make a waking move just yet. The remnants of a strange dream faded away like a dissipating mist. He frowned, trying to hold onto it, trying to understand it. It all seemed so real as if it had actually happened. As if he had ... His eyes popped open and he pushed himself up off of the pillow to a sitting position on the bed, his feet planted firmly on the floor. The floor. He looked down at his adult-sized feet. Then threw the comforter back and looked down at his legs, thighs, upper body, his arms, hands. He felt his face, fingers patting, pushing and squeezing all over. He ran both hands through his hair as he rose and walked quickly over to the bureau and examined his reflection. A broad smile slowly crept across his face. The old Abe was back! He practically jumped sideways over to the full length mirror and examined himself from every angle, twisting and turning to make sure this was not a part of that strange dream that had quickly evaporated into the back of his consciousness. He turned suddenly and, in a crouched position, walked over to the nightstand to view the time on the clock radio.

"Wow," he marveled as he ran his hand through his hair and plopped back down onto the bed. "What a trip!" He laughed at the slang word he hadn't used since his student activist days at UC Berkeley. What a trip, indeed. It was all coming back to him now. The dream that wasn't a dream. It had actually happened. He'd de-aged in stages until he'd become a pre-pubescent, then slept his way through various stages of re-aging to his present state. But something was a bit off. Had he come full circle? A photo album lay near the radio on the nightstand, which he grabbed and flipped through the leafs. Eventually, he found a bowling league championship photo from eight summers ago and walked towards the bureau again, holding it under his chin to compare his reflection against it. Almost a perfect match, so ... he wasn't quite back into his early 70's. But even if it was a bit off the mark, he was glad to have reached this stage of .... what? What was this? He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, suddenly feeling the need to scrub off whatever madness that had just recently encased him.

vvvv

"Henry," Jo whispered, hurriedly answering her phone when she saw H. Morgan OCME displayed on the Caller ID.

"Jo. You sound as though you're in a well." he replied. "I believe you wanted me to call you?"

"That's because I'm in a stall in the ladies room. How are you holding up?"

He understood her unspoken concern. How was he holding up, not being able to be with Abe at what may be a crucial time for him. "It's, uh, a bit difficult, but he and I have weathered similar times, so ... But thank you for your concern, and, and for all your help and ... understanding."

"But you'd like to be there with him, right?" When he didn't respond, only sighed, she continued. "Leave, Henry. Go home, be with him. The James autopsy is done, Dr. Washington and his sister will be dealt with and looks like Councilman James will get his divorce a bit quicker than he thought." She wryly noted. "I'll drive you home. To --- _your_ home. Drive you to _your_ home."

He chuckled a bit at her flustered last words. "I, I accept, I accept. Thank you, Jo." He smiled into the phone, then his face calmed into a more serious expression as he hung up. They met in the lobby shortly after.

Thirty minutes later, Jo's car pulled up in front of the antiques shop. They'd agreed during the ride from the precinct that he and Abe needed some alone time together. That was true and uppermost in his mind. But for a fleeting second, he realized that he also needed 'alone time', as she called it, with her. It seemed that for one reason or another, back-to-back emergencies, they just couldn't catch a break. This modern use of terminology was, regrettably, beginning to rub off on him. Either from Hanson's free-wheeling, New York-style of speaking, from Lucas' mostly unintelligible mish-mash of single words or initials to express an emotion, or from the police jargon thrown around the precinct. He realized that he wasn't being selfish in wanting to spend time with Jo. Just being human. And she made him ... feel. And he liked it. He liked it very much. But it was time for Abe right now. His feelings were secondary to the needs of his son.

"I hope Abe is ... better, Henry, back together, I don't know." She laughed nervously. "He might be a little embarrassed to see me just yet. But call me if you need me." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek but he abruptly turned his head towards her and planted his lips on top of hers. He clamped his hand onto the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and deepening the kiss. After several breathless moments, they reluctantly pulled away from each other. He felt torn. Again. While he wanted this moment with Jo to last, more of these kinds of moments with her, he, of course, wanted and needed to see about his son.

"I'll call you later with an update," he told her as he got out of the car. They smiled and waved to each other as she drove off, back to the precinct. He turned and walked up to the shop's door with the Closed sign still displayed. Once inside, he locked the door and turned around and looked over the many items in the retail portion of the shop. It had been closed to customers for nearly a month now. Thankfully, the lack of revenue had had little impact on their finances. His own personal wealth aside, Abe was a very shrewd businessman and investor, and running the shop had become more of a hobby for him. The fact that it nearly always operated in the black was just an added bonus. He heard movement upstairs and his heart leapt.

"Abraham? Abraham??" He shouted louder than he meant to as he took the stairs three at a time.

"In here, Pops," Abe called from the kitchen.

"Abraham!" Henry was ecstatic to see his son back to normal. He quickly closed the distance between them and Abe stood up from his chair and the two men embraced.

"I'm fine, Dad. I'm okay," he reassured him. They patted each other on the back and pulled away from each other. Abe sat back down at the kitchen table and Henry pulled up a chair close to him. They discussed the extraordinary happenings of the last few days over tea, Thai takeout, and later, brandy in the sitting room.

"So, here I am." Abe sighed, placing a hand over his chest. "Back to my old, lovable self." His shoulders shook with laughter as he gazed into his brandy. "Except ..." He rose up out of his armchair with ease and sat back down. "No more back pain or joint aches." He rolled his shoulders backwards and forwards, then raised his arms over his head and crisscrossed them this way and that. "My overall flexibility has improved about 1000 percent!"

Henry frowned, his body tensed. Was it possible that Abe's body had reset or healed in somewhat the same manner as his did after a death? Was this now Abe's fate, as well? To be immortal?

"Hey, don't look so glum," Abe teased him. "Personally, I'm glad to be rid of all that arthritic joint and sciatic nerve pain." He chuckled again then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Look, Dad, if this is what I think it is, so be it. If not," he straightened back up and shrugged, "then it was a crazy ride. One I'll never, EVER forget."

"You're saying that you wouldn't mind ... if this ... condition, for want of a better word, persisted?"

Abe sighed and swirled the brandy in his glass. "It hasn't really sunk in, I guess." He took a sip of his brandy. "If it means that you and I can stay together forever, then there's nothing bad about that. No way can I be sad about that." He studied the worried look on his father's face. "Look, it means that you won't have to bury me." He took another quick sip. "Maybe."

"Hmmm, I see." Henry rose and walked towards the stairs, then turned and walked back towards Abe.

"You're that worried that you have to pace? What's to be worried about now? If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, it doesn't."

"What about Fawn? Are you prepared to handle what may come of any relationship you may have with her if ... if you find that you won't age anymore, but she will?"

"Dad, we're kind of jumpin' the gun, I think. Let's ... let's just wait and see what happens." He sipped his brandy again. "Or what doesn't happen," he muttered. "Dr. Malhotra wants me for an MRI, I'll go get the MRI," he said with a shrug. "Dad, be happy that I'm back, sort of."

Henry finally traded his frown for a genuine smile. He was greatly relieved to see Abe back in full form. For now, for once, he was going to look on the bright side of things.

"And, for what it's worth, Dad," Abe began, "I now kinda know what it must be like for you." He motioned to him and added, "Dealing with something like this, some strange ... strangeness that just hijacks your normal life and turns ya every which way but loose."

Henry walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly at him.

"Do me a favor, Pops. Next time I try to tell you to just tell somebody about yourself and your condition," he shifted in his seat and looked up at Henry, "give me a swift kick in the butt." To which both of them laughed and relaxed with a little more brandy and conversation.

vvvv

One week later ...

Lucas was busy packing some of Dr. Washington's personal items into a small, cardboard box. Ear buds in place, his head bobbed in time with the music. His voice at times growled, then squeaked off key as he gently slam dunked some of the unbreakable items into the box.

"Lucas." Henry called to him from the doorway of Washington's office. "Lucas," he called a bit louder. He walked in and waved his hand to get the young man's attention.

"Oh, hey, Doc, sorry." He pulled one of the ear buds out. "Got caught up in muh happy moment, here," he replied with a grin. "Need something?"

"I just wondered what you were doing here in Washington's office?" Hands clasped behind his back, he walked closer into the room as he looked around at the mostly empty shelves and tale-tell spots on the walls where plaques and certificates had recently hung. "He's only suspended, not fired."

"Yeah, well, tell that to him. He called in this morning to the Chief's office and asked if someone could box up his stuff and have it mailed to him. He has decided to take an extended leave of absence immediately following his suspension. Which means --- "

" --- he may not return at all," Henry quietly finished his thought. He turned slowly and looked around the small, sparsely-furnished, windowless office, surprisingly a bit smaller than his own. What a gloomy office, he sadly observed. But he was sure that the gloomy box of an office wasn't the entire reason for Washington's brusque behavior. Surprisingly, he had a great deal of respect for his fellow medical professional. He couldn't help but feel that something dire had happened in his past that caused him to develop his currrent sour disposition. "And, more than his present absence, but his probable departure is the cause for your celebritory mood, is it not?"

"Hundo P, Doc!" Lucas pitched another unbreakable knick-knack into the box as if executing a 3-pointer like hoops superstar, Steph Curry.

Henry smiled and shook his head. He didn't know if he was dismayed at yet another of Lucas' mutilations of the English language, or if it was because he understood it --- 100%. He watched Lucas carefully lift the last item from a bottom drawer, a 3 x 5 framed photo of two men leaning close to each other for the shot, smiles beaming from both of their faces. From his vantage point, he couldn't make out who the second man in the photo was.

Lucas studied the photo in his hands before placing it into the box. "Hunh. I never saw Dr. Washington smile in all the four years I've worked here at the morgue. And he seemed to have even fewer friends than you, Doc --- no offense."

"None taken," Henry assured him with a slight nod of his head.

"But he's flashin' a big one and seems all buddy-buddy with this other guy in the photo, whoever he is." Lucas passed the photo to Henry.

Henry took the photo to examine it, but dropped it into the box and turned towards a familiar voice.

"Hey, Lucas. Henry." Jo walked over to Henry's side. "What are you two doing?"

"Keeping a date with the oval office, if you'll excuse me," Lucas jokingly referred to the men's room. He loped off to answer his call from nature. "Can you guys keep watch over Dr. Washington's stuff til I get back, please? Thanks!" He disappeared out of the office and down the hall.

The detective and the ME shared a laugh over Lucas' antics. Henry placed the lid on the cardboard box and sat down in one of the small chairs facing the desk, Jo sat in another. They stole a quick kiss and discussed plans for their next date. A champagne dinner cruise that would include a private VIP table and view of Liberty Island, among other sights.

Abe's recent MRI and test results had provided no answers for his odd condition and after more than a week, he appeared to be stabilized to his early 60's. When questioned about the recent changes in his slightly more youthful appearance, he attributed it to more rest, more exercise and fresh air, and a healthier diet. But as long as he and his lady friend, Fawn, were still getting along famously, it didn't matter if some of his friends were a bit skeptical and maybe a bit jealous.

Lastly, if Henry and Jo had bothered to view that photo of an ebullient Dr. Washington, they would have discovered that his equally ebullient companion in it was a psychiatrist who worked at Bellevue Hospital. None other than Dr. Lewis Farber. Adam. But that's a story for another time, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for taking this ride with me. I hope you were entertained along the way and will read and review my other stories. I wanted this story to be better and not so many chapters, but it is what it is, as they say. 
> 
> Please check out my other stories based on Forever characters if you haven't already:D


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